THE EARLY DAYS DUET:

BOOK ONE: RESTORING DIPLOMACY

Chapter One- Long, Long Ago

35 BBY

Theed, Naboo

I am fairly certain that I was born on the wrong planet.

Don't get me wrong, I love my home. Naboo is by far one of the most peaceful, and beautiful worlds in the galaxy. The problem is, in comparison, I seemed to be anything but. I had always been an impulsive, stalwart child. And even at a very young age, I knew my rash behavior would be better suited in a career that demanded it by necessity. By the time I was ten years into my life, I was already committed to the idea of joining the Royal Naboo Security Forces. And at that particular point in my life, they weren't exactly a favorable faction in the government.

Ever since King Ars Veruna expanded the military presence in Naboo, the people had grown bitter in the blatant break of pacifistic tradition. Security forces were no longer just a protective force in the eyes of the people. Instead, the security faction had been perceived as a mild form of law enforcement. A military presence being established while we were simultaneously being harassed by the early days of the Trade Federation automatically made our planet look like it was provoking a war.

That was decidedly not what the people of Naboo had been opting for.

I was of a different mindset. In my youth, I embraced the ideals of the Royal Security Forces. I always felt called to serve there. My parents had always told me that if democracy were to fall, then the galaxy inevitably would fall right along with it. So, in my young and naïve mind, protecting the Noble and Royal Houses on Naboo ensured that democracy would not collapse.

If only it was that simple.

Once I had finally been admitted in to the Security Academy at the age of eleven, I discovered that the veins of democracy were woven more intricately than I had originally presumed. Joining the forces helped me mature quickly, though. In the course of two standard years, I had been taught the physical means of providing security, such as utilizing hand-to-hand combat and firing blasters with accurate aim. But I was also instructed on the nuances of political science, to keep myself well attuned in the diplomatic stratagems that might potentially lead to future threats.

Despite the general public's recent disapproval, I knew I had been in pursuit of a noble calling. I was with the minority of the Naboo who were as dedicated as I was in learning the necessity of understanding violence without ever needing to resort to it. Security was meant to be enacted as an added layer of safety to protect our planet's way of life.

After King Veruna's scandalous exile, it ironically became even more important to have a protective military presence, since the planet was now left vulnerable without a monarch. The remaining members of Veruna's Advisory Council had been set up as a temporary parliament while we were still in the absence of a ruler. Political campaigns began in order to find a ruler that the people could put their faith in.

"You should join the campaign, Sabé."

I jerked at the sound of my name, lifting my head up from my desk. "What was that?"

My roommate at the Academy, Myora Deluim, had interrupted my reverie. "For the election," she explained. "I think you'd be a qualified ruler. You've got it where it counts." She was presently engrossed in an article she had downloaded from her datapad. I wagered it was a political article, given the context of her passing comment.

I shook my head, bemused at the coincidence that both of our minds were apparently on the same topic. Of course, the campaigns had basically been the only form of gossip that mattered to most of us, so I suppose it shouldn't have been too surprising. When it came to Naboo politics, everyone was exceedingly passionate about the elective process. Those of us in the Security Academy were particularly keen on the goings-on, since we were all oath-bound to protect whomever the next monarch would be.

I laughed at Myora's statement. "I wouldn't think so…society isn't exactly charitable to the career I'm pursuing. I doubt that my resumé would impress the public enough to enable me to be a reputable candidate."

Myora shrugged dismissively, idly twirling her finger around her blonde haphazard braid she had draped on her shoulder. "The Royal Security Force still abides by tradition. Besides, you have more tenacity and passion than twelve politicians. You could pull it off. I know pretty much everybody here in the Academy would have your vote. As it is, everyone seems to be in full support of Yané, and she's just a matter of months away from ranking into the Honor Guard."

"Yes, but Yané better suited for the task anyway," I replied. "She already knows considerably more about the niceties of diplomacy than I do. And she's younger than me. Which makes the disappointment on my end even worse. I'm more content with appraising politics than I would be in performing them."

Myora raised an eyebrow in amusement. I knew she wasn't done teasing me yet. "I don't know, Queen Sabé Declarina Evoria has a rather nice ring to it," Myora said dramatically.

I wrinkled my nose in distaste. "Now that sounds too delicate. Definitely not a good reflection of my character. And that is all the more reason for me not to be a ruler. I'm better suited to the backbone of security."

"Oh, suit yourself," Myora gave up, rolling her eyes playfully. "But I'm inclined to tell you that you don't give yourself nearly enough credit where it's due."

I pondered Myora's words for a moment, trying to imagine myself in the heavy regalia of royalty. My face covered with heavy layers of paint; standing refined with poise and grace…It was a very jarring mental image. Uncontrollably, I let out a very unladylike eruption of laughter.

Myora lifted her gaze from her datapad in surprise and turned her green eyes my direction, looking directly at my face for the first time since she first spoke.

"I think you give me too much credit," I said between laughs. "I would look ridiculous as a painted doll."

Myora tried to withhold laughter of her own, but she was soon laughing just as uproariously as I was. "Okay, maybe you're right. I couldn't possibly imagine you in a dress, much less a headdress."

We faltered back into a comfortable silence. I turned back to my paper. I was a mere matter of sentences away from completing my explanatory term paper discussing the economic hazards of bio-weaponry...I even added a few paragraphs discussing the consequences of the Blue Shadow Virus for good measure. But now that I had the comical image in my head of myself dressed up like an ornate corpse...Well, sounding intelligent was just no longer an option. Homework could wait.

I got up from my desk and plopped onto my bed across the way, letting my head hang over the side of the mattress. I kicked my feet up against the wall, allowing my spine to stretch and relax after being slouched in front of a datapad for an extended period of time. "So, do we have any new candidates for the campaign? Since we're on that topic."

Myora skimmed through the article again. "Well, aside from Yané, Parin and Jhuliara...we have two new candidates that entered the race: Kasaré Veruna and Padmé Naberrie."

"Hmm," I considered. Kasaré was a not so distant relative of Ars Veruna. She certainly had courage, being willing to enter the race even after her relative's scorching scandal. I had to give her credit for that. A lot of people would probably make uneducated votes against her simply because of her relations. "Who is Padmé?" I asked. She was unfamiliar to me.

"She's a part of an esteemed noble family here on Naboo."

"Then way am I wracking my brains trying to figure out who she is?"

"She's in the House of Naberrie...her parents are a part of the Refugee Relief Movement on Coruscant, if that rings any bells."

Unfortunately, it didn't. "Well, this Naberrie girl is certainly a more viable option than Kasaré or Parin. She at least seems to have a selfless and humble upbringing, despite her nobility."

Myora nodded in silent agreement, still analyzing the article.

"How old is she?" I wondered.

"Hmm? Oh, her background folio says that she's eleven."

Two standard years younger than myself. I jotted a mental tally of the candidates. Yané was still the youngest, at nine years old, and Kasaré was the eldest, at about nineteen. I was surprised at the balance in the age range…not that Naboo favored age when it came to voting. It was the level of intelligence and maturity that made the biggest impression on voters. Prodigies were fairly common in Naboo. We were one of the few planets in the Mid Rim that had such sky-rocketing statistics with gifted children. I, unfortunately, was no exception. Speaking of which...

"What are Naberrie's intel credentials?"

Myora huffed, offering me her datapad "Are you sure you don't want to just read it yourself?"

I realized that I was beginning to annoy her. "No, no, that's alright. I'll make this my last question, I promise," I apologized.

Myora graciously read the paragraph that answered my question: " 'While it was originally the suggestion of her parents that convinced Padmé Naberrie to enter the political race, in no way does it undermine the devout passion she has for putting a foot in the doorway of legislation. By the age of eight, Naberrie had entered into the Legislative Youth Program, and now currently meets the rank of Apprentice Legislator. Her rapid growth in political insight and knowledge has placed her well ahead of her time, rivaling in capacity to that of the late Queen Jarma Phiscotta in the early generations of the monarchy.'"

Basically, she just put all the other candidates to absolute shame.

I whistled slowly. That was an impressive feat. And quite a mouthful of high praise from the writer of the article. Since I hadn't read the article's entirety, I had no idea if the author expressed any strong bias or not. But the facts still stood. Padmé was a prodigy of a finer cloth. It looked like Yané may actually have some real competition in the campaign. With Naberrie in the picture, I knew that Kasaré didn't stand a chance either.

My contemplations were cut short when a gentle, muted alarm sang three tolls, with our plasma light blinking softly in time with it. After the third toll, the light dimmed three shades darker. We were being notified of our bedtime curfew. The light would stay dimmed for five minutes to allow everyone to settle in before lights out. I reached up to my feet, which were still more or less splayed inelegantly against the wall, and unbuckled the laces of my leather boots. I got a little lightheaded from having my head tipped over for so long, but I wasn't horribly fazed by it. After tossing my shoes on to the floor, I squared myself on my bed and settled beneath the covers.

Myora turned off her datapad and placed it on her bedside. Before tucking herself in, Myora nudged the shoes back to my side of the room. "You're such a slob..." she chastised.

"Yeah, but if you never had me in your life, you'd never learn to let loose a little bit."

"Well, unlike you prodigies, I actually have to work hard to keep up with you all in order to get into a job of my choice. So...I can't afford to laze about like you do." Myora said, with a twinge of bitterness in her tone.

I went and touched a nerve on that one. It wasn't intentional at all on my part. "I'm sorry, Myora."

Myora sighed resignedly, "Its all right. I'm just stressed for the Fourth Year Challenges, is all. My name hasn't been called yet, and I've been a little tense about it."

It was embarrassingly frequent for me to forget that Myora was two years older than me. She happened to be just a little shorter than me as well, which didn't help her cause. I was always tall for my age; lanky and boyishly scrawny, whereas Myora was a bit more compact. But as far as all of the physical exertion that went with the job description in security procedures, Myora was ideal. She had been working exceedingly hard to work her way to the point of readiness for the Fourth Year Challenges. Her prowess was admirable, so I had no doubt that she would qualify for a factional placement.

Myora slipped back into bed, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion. "I just hope they don't call for me in the middle of the night. I've been told that day shifts are much nicer."

I concurred, then guiltily turned over on my bed, deciding it was best to just let Myora get what sleep she could, just in case. The plasma light finally drifted into darkness, and my consciousness drifted shortly after. I didn't expect to be plagued by nightmares, but I found it difficult to avoid them once they took over:

I am in Naboo, or some dreamlike variant of it. I am overlooking a lake at a dock. I gaze down at my reflection and see a stranger in my stead: A placid figure with the Royal face paint gazes back at me, emitting a sense of gravitas that makes my stomach churn in dread. The somber queen holds a small bundle. A baby girl, with wisps of white hair. I realize that the stoic monarch is me.

Then, wraith-like hands spring up from the depths and pull me under into the—desert? Nothing but sand for miles and miles. Seemingly endless. The waves of sand shift into ominous silhouettes; as flickers of darkness dancing against a weathered tapestry. The shadows taunt me in a menacing ritual, tribal and savage. The shadows distort into mummies carting me down a desolate path. I find that I am bound to a disheveled, mutilated corpse. I turn the corpse around to see the face and find my own.

A sudden hum of blue light intercedes my line of vision, penetrating the darkness indefinitely. I hear my name being cried out. It is a strange, haunting cry that ricochets in the scene, chilling me to the bone.

The sound of my name echoes with escalating volume.

A chant.

A morbid incantation...

Sabé Evoria...Sabé Evoria...

"Sabé Evoria. Your presence is required in Training room 1138-C."

I woke with a cold sweat. The room was still cloaked in the darkness of the night. It took a few moments for my mind to readjust to the return of reality. The images from my dream still weaved in and out in my mind, like wisps of smoke, before fading back into nothingness.

I gave a silent shudder, collecting myself from the raw fright of my nightmare. Once my mind returned to clarity, I turned in search of the noise that wakened me. My school-owned comlink was blinking urgently, with the message continuing to repeat.

"...Training room 1138-C."

Wait a minute.

That was the room for the Fourth Year Challenges. I was just a Second Year. In no way was I qualified to take part. Not yet at least. I frowned, perplexed. Was I still dreaming, perhaps? I turned and faced Myora. She apparently had awoken to the alarm before I did. She was already sitting up in bed, her eyes large and gleaming in the muted darkness. She was so stunned, she seemed unable to move.

"D'you know what this could mean?" I asked. Myora shook her head wordlessly. I wasn't sure if what she was feeling was apprehension, or jealousy. Either way, I empathized her unsettled demeanor. I just received a premature summoning that she had been waiting for weeks to get.

"You need to go," Myora stated, her voice hushed. "They don't approve of tardiness. Even if this is just a fluke in the computer system, you should still go over and tell them as much."

I nodded and grabbed my equipment—I donned my leather vest, slipped khakis over my pajama pants, and put my leather boots back on. My long brown hair was probably disheveled from the abuse of sleep. Not bothering to brush my hair, I instead wrapped a coil around it to keep it all contained. Wasting no more time than I had already, I grabbed my comlink and darted out of the room, eager to unravel this curious mystery.

"I'll let you know what I find out," I called back to Myora as I exited.

Minutes later...

"You're late," an unknown voice intoned as I skidded to a stop in the gray, boxed in antechamber of room 1138-C. "Not exactly a promising start." The voice belonged to a stern, upright looking man. I didn't recognize him, but I did recognize his uniform. He was a member of the Palace Guard. The very field I wished to pursue.

"I apologize," I said, lowering my gaze. "But I think there was some sort of mistake. I am currently ineligible to participate in the Fourth Year Challenge. I'm only halfway through my Second Year. I do not understand how this complication could have occurred, but I—"

"No, no. Calling you here was entirely intentional," the man assured me.

I halted all speech. I was brought here deliberately? But...why?

"Mi...might I inquire as to why this is the case?" I asked, struggling to find my voice.

The man conveniently deflected my question, activating an expensive looking model of a datapad. "Your grade reports here have you labeled off the charts with your daily defense examinations...Your educative staff have indicated a stellar consistency in your developmental comprehension, and your profile form details just how tenacious you are in both your desire to learn, and to defend." he glanced back at me, as if to seek my confirmation that the information was accurate.

I nodded in affirmation. I had often been told my skills were of an exceptional variety. What point was this Palace Guard trying to make, in any case? I asked him as much.

"I am Captain Panaka. I have been appointed by the Cabinet members to search for a prestige ensemble of gifted youths who exceed the qualifications in all areas of education, but show an unwavering loyalty to the throne. Your abilities have captured my attention, and I would like to see them in action. As a sort of...induction, if you will."

"What exactly are you recruiting me for?"

Panaka wordlessly handed the datapad back to a staff member in the Academy who timidly flanked behind him. Panaka then proceeded to cross his arms. The gesture made me think of a cobra flaring its ribbed-hood in order to look intimidating.

"I am attempting to turn a legend back into a reality," he said.

That sure captured my attention. Panaka seemed to note my sudden interest, and gave a self-satisfactory smile—probably a rare expression for him—before continuing: "How familiar are you with the Order of Sanctuary?"

"They were a secret society run entirely by women in the ancient days of Naboo...That's about the extent of my knowledge." My stand-offish behavior disintegrated at the thought of where Panaka was leading this. I almost couldn't believe my ears. There was a reason he had brought up the mythological Order of Sanctuary, and despite my stand-offish behavior towards Panaka, I was anxious to hear what he had to say next.

"The Order had existed for a time, up until their mysterious disappearance during the reign of Queen Minrota during the final days before the extinction of the Sith. Now our situation is on the verge of growing dire, and our Royals needs a new level of security—A level of protection so superior, and confidential, that the people won't know about it to be able to deride and overthrow it. It's the best way to both maintain the peace, and secure an elite team of warriors to secretly guard and bear watch on the Royal representation on our planet."

"And you think I'm qualified?" I breathed, entranced at the Captain's words.

"Well, that remains to be seen." Panaka arched an eyebrow.

I tried not to be miffed at the condescension in his tone. "What must I do?"

"Follow me into the training room. On paper, your fate is already sealed. All that remains is for you to be given a single test. Your aptitude will dictate my discernment on your eligibility."

My heart began to speed up a little bit in anticipation. Behind that door lay the opportunities that I could use to prove to Panaka my worth. I had waited my whole life to be able to face the last thing that stood between me and my dream. The ever-silent staff member opened the door to allow me and Panaka to enter.

When we entered the room, it was pitch black. I waited a few seconds, expecting the lights to turn on. Or for Panaka to instruct me. Or for something to happen.

"All right, so what needs—AGH!" I screamed out in pain and surprise. Electric jolts thrashed along the length of my spine. I felt blinded by the sudden pain. The distinctive feeling indicated that the weapon was an electric melee whip. The thrash felt too powerful to have been wielded by human strength.

I swerved, trying to find my attacker. The door had already closed, and the room was so dark that my eyes refused to adjust and let me see anything. Blindly, I had to maneuver to find my antagonist. The thrash hit me again, this time from the side.

This time, I could see the electric current rippling through the length of the whip. Wasting no time, I took advantage of the hint of light that was briefly provided for me, and snagged the end of the whip.

Fluidly, I curled my arm to let the whip wrap around my wrist, and I yanked it towards me, attempting to force my attacker to stumble nearer my direction. The figure, whatever it was, didn't budge. This meant that I was the lighter and more agile. I would use that to my advantage.

And inevitably, I did. The force of my tug instead brought me towards the attacker. I lifted my legs and prepared to kick towards the center of where the whip was being grasped. The light from the electricity sparked and faltered into nonexistence as I made my first blow.

It was a success. I felt the solid middle of my attacker grunt in pain and try to reestablish his footing.

I wasn't even able to release the first whip when I was suddenly struck again from behind, but from a different source altogether. Ignoring the pain to the best of my ability, I used my spare arm to catch the other whip and repeat what I did to the former. The tugging on both ends did me no good, save for the first one I attacked. I had hit him hard enough that he still hadn't fully recovered by the time I tugged again. He had stumbled forward. I leaped up and kicked again, pointing both heels in opposite directions to try and incapacitate both at once. The first one faltered, and nearly dragged me down with him.

I was about to land on my feet, but the floor suddenly didn't exist, as though it got pulled from under me like a trap door. My stomach dropped when I fell further than I had expected I would. My bearings were distorted again. My fall served as the whips' indication of a thrash, so soon I was hanging suspended from the trapdoor's entrance. Now the ceiling. The electric charges started coursing through my body unforgivably. I let out a scream, unable to block the pain. Swiftly, I released my grip from the whips. My hands felt slashed and burnt from the cables.

The pain had becoming overwhelming, but I stubbornly pushed the rawness of my feeling to the side. I had a battle to finish. I heard the cracking of the whips from above me. I looked up and saw their flickering lights. That was all I needed to get an idea of the size and distance of the trapdoor. I jumped up and clung to the edge, out of the line of fire when the whips descended to where I just was.

Darkness took over again, and I hoisted myself up, prepared to beat these mocking villains, whoever they were.

Everything felt like it was going in slow motion, even though I was probably reacting faster than I ever had before. This was my first time battling two unseen enemies. Panaka wasn't kidding when he said my talents "remain to be seen." I couldn't help laughing at the dark humor of my situation. Even though I was at a visual disadvantage, I knew that Panaka was observing my capabilities with night-viewing oculars from within the training room's mezzanine booth. Without a doubt, he was carefully monitoring my every move, including my hesitancies.

Another jolt of light erupted from the whip. I reacted quickly, this time running underneath its length, using it as a trail to lead me to my attacker.

Finally, success: I blindly found the pressure point at his wrist, releasing the weapon from his grasp. I slashed the whip repeatedly at my opponent, waiting for him to weaken. He was close enough to me now that I was able to vaguely see his form. Pocketing the whip, I reoriented the fight into hand-to-hand. I was always far more effective with my martial training. I was still aware of my second foe, and shielded myself with the first opponent, continuing my counter-attack as I did so. Then, with a satisfying thud, my first attacker fell.

The other one was suddenly elusive, not daring to give away his position while he stood on equal fighting terms with me. I walked tentatively, minding my step, so as not to fall in the trap door again. I removed the whip from my pocket, and thrashed it in the air every so often. This was done in part to let the light navigate me, but also to intimidate my foe.

Suddenly, I was tripped by my opponent. He came from behind, knowing to steer clear from my line of vision. This one was craftier than my first opponent. I fell forward. The hardness of my fall knocked my weapon off my hands, and the unseen foe retaliated. The electric charge did its painful trick of trade once again, and I was getting too fatigued to want to fight back the pain. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as my body seized in accordance to the will of the weapon.

Using every last ounce of strength that I had, I retaliated, hoping to return the battle to my favor. I kicked my legs forward, aiming for the knees of my opponent. I felt his legs buckle at the impact, and I propelled myself back to my feet, striking my enemy at any vulnerable points that I could find. Stomach, throat, genitalia…with every blow, the shrouded man continued to weaken. I felt him raise his whip as a last-ditch effort to ward me off. In one fluid movement, I elbowed his arm to divert the whip and shot the base of my other hand in an upward trajectory towards the soft center of his jugular notch. The force of my exertion knocked him to the ground. He groaned in pain, seemingly unwilling to get back up again.

As far as I could tell, I had just won.

The florescent lights were activated again, much to my delight and relief.

Upon seeing my surroundings, I noted that my opponents were two human men, clearly employed under the royal guard, based on the insignias worn on their sparring attire. They looked absolutely miserable. I felt a little bad, knowing that they weren't truly my enemies, just voluntary members of an aggressive exercise. Awkwardly and somewhat apologetically, I helped them back up to their feet.

I looked up at Panaka, who had indeed been stationed in the upper observation deck. The training room seemed a lot bigger than I thought it was. I was feeling increasingly light-headed, but I ignored the feeling as best I could.

"So," I said, daring myself to smile, "do I pass?"